


Team Effort

by Emono



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sexy Stretching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 10:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12252525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: “You have to relax. Follow my hand.”“It fucking hurts.”“I know it does. You’re doing good, captain. Turn your hips more.”“I don’t think I can.”“Let me help.”





	Team Effort

“You have to relax. Follow my hand.”

 

“It fucking hurts.”

 

“I know it does. You’re doing good, captain. Turn your hips more.”

 

“I don’t think I can.”

 

“Let me help.”

 

The rest of the team’s chatter died off as their captain and medic worked together. The sounds coming from them were obscene. Ron’s cut off grunts and hisses paired with Gene’s low, encouraging murmurs. They tried not to gawk but it was hard when the show going on across the room was so tantalizing. They should’ve been doing their warm up stretches but they got distracted by the soft core porn. A lot of them had red cheeks but Babe was getting visibly hot and bothered. 

 

Of course Guarnere noticed and chirped at him for it. “You packing snacks in your shorts there, Babe?”

 

Babe quickly drew his legs up to hide his half chub and flipped him off. 

 

Ron was stretched out on the mat on his back, leg hiked up. Gene’s hands were on his thigh and hip, helping him roll his lower body to the side. He struggled to keep his shoulders flat on the mat as the cramp seized up his leg. Gene dug his fingers into the pressure points and massaged them with purpose. He talked him through it, that deep voice of his a constant rumble and washing over his captain. 

 

When the muscle finally unknotted and relaxed, Ron’s face went slack in bliss. There seemed to be more emotion on his face under Gene’s hands than ever showed up on the ice. Besides fury, that is. Their captain usually stayed pretty stoic, trying to keep a brave face on for the rest of the team unless he was trying to cheer them up after a lost. Otherwise, he was more of a father figure, present but a bit untouchable. He inspired them that way.

 

Besides, when they needed a mom they had Lip.

 

But Gene was their medic, their Doc. Gene was the person they cried out for right before Lip showed up, the person they wanted as they tried to bat the refs away. Gene personally handled all their injuries, great or small. He was there when the trainers made them sit out to check for concussions, when they needed their shoulders popped back into place, and when they had to get carted to the hospital he demanded to ride with them. Day or not, he was a call away ready to answer any question from splinters to possibly twisted ankles or even alcohol poisoning. He was taking nutritionist certification so he can take on that role officially for the team though he’d been doing it for months. Gene knew all their stretches, their limits, and had real medical training to back it up. He was invaluable and not every team got one.

 

Gene was a special gift from their captain paid for out of pocket before Dick, their owner, decided to financially back the plan. A half season with Gene had proven how very much the Strykers needed their own personal doctor. And they were grateful.

 

Gene massaged Ron’s thigh long after he felt the cramp ease. He was leaning over the Strykers’ captain with his hips pressed flush to that plump ass. He knew the guys were watching and he tried to beat down his blush. He unashamedly loved Ron’s thighs and ass, thick and powerful from their specific hockey training. He loved how they felt under his hands or between his own legs. Gene tried to keep those parts of their lives separate - behind doors and here at work - but it was hard when they’ve been at training camp all week without privacy. The off season had been so much easier. 

 

Gene beat all those feelings down and snapped when the boys snickered. “Trainers want you out there in five minutes. You better be loose.”

 

“Boys,” Lip snapped mid-stretch, backing him up. He always took Gene’s side and it was a comfort to know he could rely on him like that. The boys all grumbled and resumed their routine. 

 

“Can’t believe we got two moms _and_ a dad,” Malark griped. 

 

Grant cuffed him upside the head. “You’re damn lucky and you know it.”

 

“Some teams don’t even get _one_ mom,” Buck pointed out with a grin. 

“I’ll get the water bottles set up,” Gene said to Lip like a ‘thank you’, ignoring the team.

 

Lip flashed him a grateful smile. He’d taken a cheap shot during a practice last week and his eye was still colored but he looked one hundred percent. “Thanks, Gene.”

 

To return the favor, Lip herded the team out like a bunch of giggling school children. They whispered about mom letting the captain and his medic have some time alone. Gene rolled his eyes at them but still pulled back, settling more comfortably. “Idiots.”

 

“Our idiots,” Ron sighed, stretching out like a cat. Once they were all gone he sat up and took the closest bottle of water, downing it smoothly. Gene admired the long line of his throat, the glisten of his lips, the low fan of his raven lashes. He was more than handsome, he was breathtaking. He ran his fingers through Ron’s hair in a playful ruffle. The captain moved his head into it like an attention starved cat. 

 

“You’re getting long here, captain,” Gene commented. He scratched his nails down the man’s bearded jaw with a smile. “And scruffy.”

 

“You like it,” Ron accused. 

 

“Work those boys hard today. They’re being shits,” Gene ordered, rubbing the ache out of his knees. He started to get up but Ron fisted the front of his shirt and dragged him back down. He was about to tease him for being so grabby but got caught up in a rough kiss that sparked heat low in his gut. Gene gasped and kissed back, fingers pawing uselessly at the player’s tight shirt. They clung at one another, pushing, clawing, a rough burst of energy passing between them from being so long denied. 

 

Ron dove into the cradle of his throat and set his teeth there with a frustrated noise. It was a threat and a promise and a tease. Gene wanted to beg him to bare down but let out a ragged breath instead. They couldn’t leave marks. Gene wasn’t in the public eye quite as intensely as the rest of the Strykers but he was still there on the edge of the screen. There was always someone watching.

 

“You have no idea how badly I want to bite you,” Ron confessed. He slid a hand up the back of Gene’s shirt and splayed his fingers over all that warm skin. “Stay in my room tonight.”

 

Gene knew the fine ticks of Ron’s emotions and he could recognize begging when it was so nicely presented. “You’re going to be exhausted.”

 

“I don’t care,” Ron grunted stubbornly, holding him tight against his chest. He quieted down and rubbed his face in Gene’s throat, his arm curling around his lithe waist. Gene molded well into the broader, thicker line of Ron’s body. He was a grown man, fit as anyone had to be to work well on the ice, but he felt small in Ron’s arms. He liked it more than he should. “Even if it’s just sleeping…”

 

“Yeah?” Gene prompted with a smile. 

 

“Don’t make me say it,” Ron whined. 

 

“Say it,” Gene murmured thickly in his ear. Ron shivered and pushed into him, trying to get away with it by being cute. It had been too long since they’d been able to be intimate and he was getting a bit needy himself. When they were alone Ron had become open with his affection and feelings. He’d even go so far as to say Ron was a romantic, generous with his pet names and sweet nothings. But around the team Ron had to be Captain Speirs and Gene respected that. He loved both sides of the man but sometimes in moments like this he pushed. “For me?”

 

Ron’s face burned against his neck. When he finally spoke his voice was quiet. “Just want to hold you.”

 

The sentiment struck Gene hard and he pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek. “Of course.”

 

o0o

 

Just as Gene predicted, Ron was beyond exhausted by the time he was showered, fed, and sprawled in bed. As the captain, he made an effort to push himself harder than the rest of the guys. He never asked them to do more than he did and it had earned him the respect the ‘C’ on his chest came with. He had tried to roll on top of Gene and make good on his promise in the locker room but his arms gave out in the first handful of seconds.

 

“Fuck,” Ron huffed into his shoulder. He tried to sit himself up and his elbows buckled again. He was clearly embarrassed and Gene pet through his hair reassuringly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Don’t think it’s happening tonight. I really can’t feel my hands and I think my shoulders are melting.”

 

Gene gentled him over onto his back and brushed their mouths. “Think you can get it up, big guy?”

 

“Keep rubbing that hot little body up against me like that and I’m bound to,” Ron purred against his lips, tired but still straining for another kiss. 

 

“Then you lay back and let me take care of you. Alright?”

 

Though Ron was exhausted from camp it _had_ been a while and it wasn’t long before he was thick and dripping in Gene’s sure hands. He could go through a hundred hockey seasons, to Playoffs and back, and still have the energy to make love to Gene. He was so Goddamn beautiful between Ron’s thighs, looking so small surrounded by heavy muscle. He’d stripped down before he’d made his way down there and Ron got to admire that pretty little body while he got his dick sucked.

 

Gene was all curves and valleys of pale, flawless skin. He glowed in the lamplight, dark hair all that more shocking and glistening eyes standing out against the pink of his cheeks. He had to keep up a certain amount of physical training to get on the ice when he was needed, to be as fast and sure as the rest of them when his blades hit the rink, but it wasn’t nearly as strict. That meant he had a cute ass and a soft tummy, and a plumpness to his chest and hips.

 

Some of the guys chirped at Gene for being out of shape but they always shut up when Ron came in the room. He loved Gene just as he was. They got payed to play hockey and stay in athletic shape. Gene got paid to keep them safe and healthy, and that meant he got to eat fried chicken and greasy burgers and decadent cake. Though he had those sharp, gorgeous cheekbones he was plump all over except for the defined curves of his calves from skating.

 

Ron had fucked a lot of people but he’d never been so taken with someone before. He’d never found every freckle and curve of someone so fascinating, been so captivated by a chapped mouth and solid jaw and thick brow. Gene just really did it for him and somehow it seemed to go both ways. 

 

The sounds were filthy. It was a sloppy blowjob in every sense of the word and Ron was getting off on it. He liked when his pristine boyfriend got messy. Gene’s lips plush and wet as they worked his cock. He went deep and swallowed around him like he couldn’t get enough. Though his eyes were shining he didn’t choke, didn’t fumble.

 

Gene did that thing where he suckled at the head, licking just under the tip, and pumped his hand _just_ right and Ron came like a fucking freight train. He was still sex numb and stupid when he tried to offer to return the favor but Gene batted his heavy hands away with a fond smile. He kissed him and then cleaned them both up.

 

Ron was half asleep when Gene came back to bed after rinsing his mouth and turning off the lights. He was unashamed of using the last of his strength to grab Gene by the hand and drag him in close to cuddle. He’d pushed himself so hard at practice that he was already mush, but he needed to steal a few kisses and pet that cute butt before he fell asleep. And there was something he wanted to ask.

 

“Honey?” Ron husked, nose buried in dark hair. Gene hummed and shifted around until they were face to face. “You think we can do it?”

 

Gene frowned a little and reached up to rub his knuckles along his stubbled jaw. “What?”

 

“The cup,” Ron admitted quietly. “You think…?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Gene replied honestly, pinching his cheek. “You can do it, Captain. I’m gonna’ be there and watch it all happen. You just try to stay on your skates and avoid those high sticks. Don’t need you spittin’ out your teeth on the ice again.”

 

“You knew what you were signing up for when you dated a hockey player.” Ron ran his tongue over his teeth, touching on at least three porcelain. Gene chuckled and it was a balm on his smarting pride. He scooted and shifted down, pushing at Gene until he got the doctor on his back. He laid on his boyfriend’s chest and curled his arms around his slighter form. Gene was all smooth and pliant beneath him, better than any pillow. Long, talented fingers carded through his hair. Neat nails scratched at his scalp and he thought he was going to start purring. His eyes got heavy and every blink was harder to come back from.

 

“I know what I signed up for,” Gene whispered in the dark of their room, petting him lovingly. “You’re going to the Playoffs. You’ll win the Cup. We’re gonna’ fight about how you never having any time for me and how careless you are, and we’ll damn near hate each other by the end. But I’m gonna’ be there every step of the way to fix you up. Ain’t goin’ nowhere, Ron. Trust and believe.”

 

But Ron was sound asleep to the sound of the murmured words and the quiet thump of his heart.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
